The Ugly Duckling Debutante (House of Renwick #1)(41)

“What are you talking about?” Sara whispered, leaning toward her now noticeably frail aunt. She was speaking in riddles.

“I fell in love; I let the duke seduce me with his smooth words. He always joked about wanting to marry, but I took him seriously. When I found out I was with child, he offered to fund a family to adopt the child, so nobody would get wind of the scandal. In my heart I couldn’t do that, so I took the child into the country to be raised by my sister and her husband." Sara's aunt stared at her own trembling hands. She paused, as if struggling with something. When she continued, it was by pure force of will, dredging out the words that were so obviously weighing heavily on her. "It wasn’t until recently, a few short weeks ago, I realized the treatment you were actually receiving. At the time I was so shocked to see your state that I was angry. Angry at myself for not being brave; angry that you were more beautiful than I could have imagined; angry that I missed your entire childhood.”

Sara's mind reeled, What was the woman saying? Lady Fenton shook her head fiercely, “I never meant for you to believe you were ugly. I was the one who was ugly with my words and actions. It was too easy to take my anger out on you. But since you've come to stay with me, as I have watched you handle yourself in all these dreadful circumstances, I have seen that you are everything I never was and more. You are far more beautiful and kind than I could ever dream to be. I—“ She cut off abruptly and lifted a handkerchief to her eye.

Sara couldn’t think; she couldn’t speak. All those years, all those horrible years of enduring unfair treatment from her parents. She thought they despised her and viewed her as useless, ugly, and different. No wonder she looked nothing like her family! She had been living with an aunt and uncle the entire time! She wanted to scream, My entire life has been a lie! But then again, hadn’t she always known? Did she ever really feel connected to her family? No, she was more attuned to the families in books; the ones which didn’t exist. In her heart, she felt nothing for those who raised her. They abused her verbally and treated her like a slave.

“I am so proud of you, Sara. And I do truly believe this match with Lord Renwick will be perfect for you. I am sorry to say the money I left you was taken by your parents, when I signed you over to their care.”

“Why didn’t you come sooner?” Sara asked calmly. Thoughts of how badly she’d been treated made her want to cry at the injustice.

“I’m ashamed to admit I only recently told my husband of your existence. I told myself you were happier without me. When I heard of your sisters’ elopement and your parents’ need for funds, I scolded myself for not checking up on you more consistently. I told myself I would see how you fared and leave money with your parents. Instead I found myself begging your mother to allow you to come back with me for a season. They won't release their hold on you until you are married, my dear. Then you will be your husband’s property, and you will be free of them.”

“I need to think about all of this. I need…time,” Sara said slowly, wondering how she was able to sound so calm when everything inside her, everything she knew about herself, was in utter chaos.

“I understand completely, my dear; I only ask one thing…”

Sara met Lady Fenton's gaze.

“Don’t speak of this to Renwick just yet. He won’t take the news very well.”

Sara laughed bitterly. “I’m certain he’ll take it better than I am. Surely keeping it a secret from him will only cause more grief.”

Her aunt’s eyes glistened with guilt-ridden tears as she fingered the handle of the teacup in her hands. Lifting her head she half-whispered, “He won’t take it well, Sara, because your father was the duke Nicholas killed.”

Sara froze. Had she heard her aunt wrong? No, the tension in the room gave way to the truth coming from her aunt’s lips. Her father…was a duke, and not just any duke—the same duke her fiancé had killed in the infamous duel two years ago. The knowledge would devastate Nicholas; the truth had the power to destroy everything they had struggled to build these past few weeks. If he found out before the wedding, he would surely bow out for fear the match would do nothing but destroy what was left of her reputation. The guilt alone would be too much for Nicholas to bear on his own, and he already had a lion's share of guilt on his shoulders. No, she had to keep it from him, until the right time.

“When Lord Renwick and I marry, my parents—or I should say, aunt and uncle, they'll no longer have a legal hold over me?”

Lady Fenton looked relieved. “Yes, Sara. That’s correct. You will be the property of Renwick, and you can stay here. They will have no claim on your money or anything else, for that matter. I hope, in due time, to restore your title, the title you deserve. You are still the daughter of a duke.”

Sara nodded mutely. The daughter of a duke. All those years dreaming and wishing she were someone else, and she had always wanted to be a princess. At the time she wished for any sort of escape, if it meant that she could live as someone else or be someone else. Now, it seemed so cruel when the truth was laid out in front of her.

“I look like you,” Sara finally choked out; she hadn’t the courage to look her aunt in her eyes, but knew her aunt’s face was heavy with emotion.

“Yes, my dear. You do. You also resemble the man I once loved.”